


Unless It’s With You

by AlexisErin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, Post-Break Up, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24571318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexisErin/pseuds/AlexisErin
Summary: “How did you do it?”“Do what?”“Get over her.”“I didn’t. But you’re stronger than me. You’ll find someone else.”“Maybe. Maybe not.”
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 37
Kudos: 170





	1. The Art of Letting Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Letting go ain't easy  
>  Oh, it's just exceedingly hurtful  
> 'Cause somebody you used to know  
> Is flinging your world around  
> And they watch as you're falling down_   
> 

* * *

“I just don’t think he should be up there alone,” Cirra Waters was saying into her phone. “Gendry can go to dark places when he’s left alone with his thoughts.”

There was a deep sigh on the other end. “ _And what do you want me to do about it, Cirra? The boy hates me. I’m the last person he’ll want to see_.”

“Gendry does not hate you, Robert. He loves you. He just doesn’t like you. There’s a difference.”

“ _And that’ll make him more receptive to me? That boy has never listened to me a damn day in his life. You’re better off sending Davos after him. If he had_...”

“You’re the only one who somewhat knows what he’s feeling.” Cirra squeezed the bridge of her nose. “Listen. Just try. For me?” She could practically hear Robert rolling his eyes.

“ _Fine. I’ll take a plane out tomorrow. But I’m telling you it’ll be like talking to a wall_.”

“Thank you, Robert.” Cirra chuckled when she heard him grumble about grown children before hanging up. She sat her phone down on the island of the kitchen she stood in. She was in Gendry’s apartment. Her daughters Mya and Bella stood in various positions in front of her. “He said he’ll try.”

Mya shook her head. “I’m with Dad. I doubt Gendry will even let him in.”

“I actually think he has a good chance. If Daddy knows anything, it’s about how to deal with a broken heart,” Bella countered.

Cirra sighed. “That’s not why Robert should go.” She walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. The place was immaculately clean. “It’s strange. I expected some sort of tantrum. But outside of him just disappearing and leaving nothing but a note, you’d never even know anything happened.”

Mya walked out of the kitchen behind her mother. The older woman was correct. The only sign that Gendry had even been back to his apartment was the quickly scrawled note he left. He had clearly known his family would come looking for him. Mya unfolded it and read the barely legible handwriting: _Gone to GE_. That was it. Not even a date for when he would be back. Mya could only assume the trip would last as long as it would have originally.

“He just needs some time to process everything; just a few days to decompress. I think he’ll be okay,” Bella said. She seemed to always look at the glass half full. “He seemed okay before he left.”

Cirra chuckled and began walking around the apartment to check the rooms. “It was odd. For someone with such a temper, he certainly kept it in check. I guess those classes really helped.” She came to Gendry’s closed bedroom door and stared at it. She opened it and stepped inside.

The bed was made. The carpet appeared to be recently vacuumed. The dresser was organized. There were only a few shirts folded on top of it. The nightstands were cleared. The curtains are drawn. It even looked like the ceiling fan had been dusted.

“Sheesh! Did he clean everything before he left?” Bella walked in behind Cirra. “He didn’t even keep his room this clean when we were kids.”

Cirra shook her head. “I guess it was some form of therapy for him. Anyway, let’s go. There’s nothing else we can do until Gendry gets back.”

Mya had hung back in the living room. She was walking around, looking at the bookcase. There were all types of books on engineering and architecture along with a few science fiction books. There were also several framed pictures. She noticed there was one face down on the shelf. She picked it up and saw there was a small envelope under it. Gendry’s name was written on it. Mya recognized the handwriting and frowned. She heard her mother and sister coming. Sighing, Mya quickly pocketed the envelope and went to meet them.

* * *

The God’s Eye could be unnervingly quiet. The rental cottages surrounding the huge lake were far enough apart that overhearing your neighbor required an immense amount of noise. There was an island in the middle of the lake covered in trees. It was called the Isle of Faces due to the faces carved into the ancient weirwood trees. There were legends that a tribe of green men lived on the island. The island was forbidden territory, so no one could confirm or deny that particular legend.

Gendry Baratheon decided he liked it. The solitude was relaxing. He was an introvert and every now and then, just being away from people did him a bit of good. Since he had booked this cottage for two weeks, he intended to use every minute of it by himself. He’d turned off his phone and put it in a cookie jar he’d found in the cottage’s quaint kitchen. He doubted he would need it at any point in his stay.

Due to all the free time he had, Gendry also found he had more time to think. Sometimes his thoughts were benign; his activities for the day or what he could cook. Other times, his thoughts would descend into a dangerous and dark place. It did not start until he had already been at the God’s Eye for 6 days. He had been sitting on the back porch of the cottage, facing the huge lake and eating an orange cream bar, when he suddenly remembered why he was there alone.

 _Shit_ , he thought. Gendry had gone all this time having not dwelled on it. He looked at the half-eaten ice cream bar. Suddenly he was not in the mood for it.

Gendry rose from his seat and went back in the cottage. He tossed the bar in the trash. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Now that the incident had been brought back to the forefront of his mind, he was fighting back warring emotions: rage and sadness. Gendry had been just fine not feeling anything. He looked around the kitchen. He marched over to a cabinet and swung the door open. There was an impressive collection of liquor inside of it. He blindly reached inside to pull out a bottle. Walking back over to the island, he untwisted the cap. Just as he brought it to his lips, the doorbell sounded.

He briefly considered ignoring it. The notion became even stronger when he heard the unmistakable voice of his father calling for him. Why would Robert be here? Had something happened to his family? Now Gendry was a little worried. He sat the open bottle down harder than he intended. Some of the liquor splashed out and onto the counter. Cursing, he quickly left the kitchen. He made it to the front door, unbolted it, and swung the door open.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Robert narrowed his eyes but chose not to address his son’s tone. It would do nothing but start a fight. Instead, he pushed his way past Gendry and into the cottage. “Your mother asked me to check on you,” he said.

“Well, I’m fine,” Gendry snapped. He slammed the door when he realized he would not get rid of Robert so easily. His father had already started to roam about the cottage.

That the place was still mostly clean was a surprise to Robert. It hardly looked lived in, but he could tell where Gendry spent most of his time. Robert made his way into the kitchen. He saw the lone liquor bottle sitting on the counter. There was a bit that had spilled out around it. The cap was still off but it was obvious that Gendry had not had any. Yet. Robert picked up the bottle to look at it.

“Brandy. I sure hope you weren’t planning on chugging this all at once.” Robert looked over at Gendry, who was lingering around the entryway. He almost appeared ashamed at having been caught with the brandy. Robert sighed and sat the bottle back down. He was not close with Gendry, but he knew him enough to know that he hardly drank and when he did it certainly was not while he was alone. “Why are you up here by yourself, boy?” He twisted the cap back on the bottle.

“Because I rented it for two weeks. I wasn’t about to waste my vacation time sitting at home,” Gendry answered.

Robert nodded. “Understandable. But you’ve worried your mother and sisters. You didn’t think it important to at least call them?”

“I left a note.”

“That she didn’t find until you’d been gone for days. Now what are you doing up here alone? Wallowing in self-pity? Drinking yourself to death?”

Gendry snorted. “You’d know all about that,” he said.

“Yes. I would.” Robert smirked at the face Gendry made at his admission. The boy clearly had nothing to say back to that. “That’s why your mother sent me up here to talk to you. She thinks I have experience in this department,” he said. Gendry rolled his eyes and left the kitchen. Robert followed after him.

Gendry sat down in the living room. He slumped down on the couch and stared straight ahead. Robert took a seat in an armchair. The two sat in a thick but not uncomfortable silence. It might have been 5 or 10 minutes before that silence was broken by a flash of lightning and roll of thunder from outside. Gendry’s mood darkened even more than the sky did.

Robert could see Gendry going into that gloomy place. Though Gendry had spent most of his youth with Cirra, Robert was well aware of Gendry’s tendency to get lost in negative thoughts. “What have you done to quell that anger, boy?”

“Who said I quelled it?” Gendry glared in Robert’s direction. The barely contained rage he was radiating with would have sent a weaker man running. However, Robert was who Gendry got his temper from. Usually, Gendry would take a moment to calm himself, as he had been taught in management classes when he was an angry teenager. He found this to be one of the hardest things he had ever done.

“Letting it fester like an infected wound will only make it worse. Yell. Throw things. Punch things. Get it out of your system so you can breathe, boy.”

“That’s not what I was taught.” Gendry was now gripping his hair.

“Fuck those anger lessons right now. You’re about to give yourself an aneurysm.”

Gendry growled and got to his feet. He stalked out of the room, surprising Robert. The older man watched Gendry open the door that led to the basement and disappear down the stairs. He waited a moment before getting up to follow him. When he got downstairs, Robert saw there was a small fitness area. There was a treadmill, weights, a cage, an exercise bike, and a stability ball. In the back of the room was a heavy bag. Gendry was angrily strapping on gloves, mumbling a variety of colorful phrases. Robert went to sit on the weight bench and watched his son start to lay into the bag.

At first, Gendry’s attack was measured. There was weight behind each shot, but he was still clearly trying to hold back. After 5 minutes of that, his punches started coming faster. His grunting became louder. As he grew faster, he also grew sloppier. His glove often slid on the side of the bag instead of a direct hit. 10 minutes later, Gendry was throwing weak punches and swaying tiredly. He finally stepped away from the bag and sat down hard on the floor.

“Feel better?” Robert asked after a long moment of silence.

“Not even a little,” Gendry retorted while removing the gloves. It was not true. The tension in his body had been released. His mind was a little less muddled. And, well, he no longer wanted to put his fist through the wall. But now that the rage was gone, Gendry just felt the overwhelming sadness he had been staving off.

Robert raised an eyebrow. “I see.” The two lapsed into silence again. Robert waited with uncharacteristic patience to see if Gendry would say anything else.

“What do I do now?” Gendry’s voice was so quiet that Robert was not sure he heard him speak at first. It was not until Gendry looked up at him that he realized he had spoken.

“You survived before her. You’ll survive after her,” Robert said sternly.

Gendry scoffed. “That’s the problem. I think I’ve forgotten what life was like before her. I thought...” He trailed off and shook his head. “I don’t know who I am anymore without her.” He rubbed his eyes furiously. If there was one thing Gendry was not going to do, it was shed tears in front of his father. He would prefer to do that alone in the shower.

Robert waited a moment to gather his thoughts. He was not any good at this. “Then find out. But you won’t do it here, alone like a hermit.” He rose from his seat. “Call your mother. She’s very worried about you.” He started to leave, but Gendry’s voice stopped him just as he got to the stairs.

“How did you do it?” he asked.

“Do what?” Robert looked back at him. Gendry had turned to look at him too.

“Get over her,” he replied.

Robert shook his head. “I didn’t. But you’re stronger than me. You’ll find someone else.”

Gendry shook his head. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

* * *

The next morning, Gendry took a rowboat and went out into the lake. He rowed out until he was halfway between his cottage and the Isle of Faces. When he came to a stop, he reached inside his pocket and took out two rings. He stared down at them with a blank expression. He squeezed them in his hand and then threw them as hard as he could. They landed in the water a fair distance away from him. He took out his phone next and dialed. It rang twice before it was picked up.

“Hey, Mom. I’m not coming home yet. There’s something I have to do.”

* * *

_**5 years later...** _

Hot Pie glanced around the clock hanging on the wall of his diner. It was 12:58pm. He went in search of a mug and poured a cup of coffee. He was taking it to the last seat on the far left of the counter just as the door to the diner was opening. In stepped Gendry, looking more like he’d just come from a bar than an office. He headed straight for the seat.

“Hey,” Gendry said before taking a sip of his black coffee. “What do you have today?”

“Today I’ve made a nice selection of tarts: a lovely strawberry rhubarb, the classic egg custard, a brilliant chocolate, and the fan favorite coconut cream. What’ll you have today, milord?” the baker asked.

Gendry thought for a moment. “I think I’ll have that chocolate,” he replied. Hot Pie nodded and walked away. He returned with a slice of the chocolate tart. Gendry noticed the darker crust. “New recipe for the crust?”

“I thought I’d try a graham cracker crust this time. So far it’s been a hit. This is the third tart I’ve had to make today.” He watched Gendry put a piece into his mouth. “What do you think?”

Gendry nodded. “Excellent.”

Hot Pie smiled as he heard the bell on the door jingle as a new customer entered. He turned to see Bella looking around the diner. When she spotted Gendry she narrowed her eyes and marched over to him. She came to stand next to him with a loud huff. Gendry continued to eat his slice of tart placidly. Hot Pie cleared his throat awkwardly. Bella turned her blue eyes towards him.

“Chocolate malt?” he asked. Bella looked torn. She sighed and nodded. “Coming right up.” Hot Pie left the two alone.

Bella glared back at Gendry. He was now drinking from his mug. “Cersei called,” she said.

Gendry sat his mug down. “And?”

“She wants to see you. I still can't believe you agreed to do that witch's bidding.”

“ _Bidding_? Bella, renovating the Dragonpit hardly counts as _bidding_.”

Bella stomped her foot. “It’s the principle, Gendry! She’s evil!”

“And because Cersei is evil the Dragonpit should suffer for it? It was overdue for renovation and I had some ideas for it. If she footed the bill, who the fuck cares? Why are we even still having this conversation? I took the job a year ago.” Gendry cut into his tart. As far as he was concerned, his father’s current wife was just like any other client. He did not have to like her to do his work. Besides, he had already had many ideas on what to do for the renovations. It was almost a dream job. He was not about to pass it up just because he hated that woman's guts.

“Because I’m the one who has to talk to her. She makes my skin itch.” Bella sighed again and took a seat beside Gendry. Hot Pie returned with her chocolate malt. “Thanks, Pie,” she mumbled before immediately putting the straw in her mouth. She drank a third of it quickly, stopped, and groaned. “Fucking brain freeze,” she whined.

Gendry snorted. “Serves you right.”

* * *

Legend had it that hundreds of years ago, the Dragonpit was where the Targaryens of old kept their dragons. Supposedly, dragons had been a thing in the past and the government was hiding their remains. The Dragonpit of today was an amphitheater with some of the best acoustics this side of the Narrow Sea. It sat on Rhaenys’ Hill, near Flea Bottom. Flea Bottom was where Gendry had spent the first 5 years of his life after his mother left his father only a few months after he was born.

Gendry had always liked the old amphitheater. As a child and then as an art student, he would think about the changes he would make to its design. The half-dome that covered the stage was nothing to write home about. There had been so much potential. Now, his dream had been realized. He was standing at the back of the amphitheater admiring his work when he heard the click-clack of heels on the concrete. He turned his head to the left to see his stepmother approaching him. While his sisters never missed a chance to express their disdain for her (and she for them), Gendry was largely apathetic to the woman. Of course he did not like her, but he did not go out of his way to show it. He had been surprised when she called him to request his services for this project.

“You have done well,” Cersei said as she came to a stop in front of him. “The rest of the city council has been nothing but complimentary of your work.”

Gendry shrugged, not caring for the praise in particular. “It was a job I’ve always wanted to do.”

“You know what they say. If you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life. In addition to your bill, the council has given you a lifetime pass to any event held here at the Dragonpit; box seats, of course.”

“Wow. What’s the first event that will be held here once it opens again?”

Cersei looked towards the stage. “The Northern Ballet Company will be doing a few shows.” She turned to watch his face. He did not so much as flinch. “I was unaware ballet lent itself to the rigors of the elements. But this is a special show that was created just to be performed outside. You enjoyed the ballet once.”

Gendry snorted. “Once,” he agreed. He was not so sure if he would enjoy it now. “Are you inviting me to this show?”

“The donors and council would indeed like you to be there for the grand reopening. It could spark more business to you.”

"We'll see…"

* * *

When Gendry walked into his office three days later, he saw an envelope sitting on his desk. He hung his jacket up and walked over to it. The seal had been broken and he sighed. Of course Bella would have already checked to see what it was. For what had to be the thousandth time, Gendry questioned why he had hired his sister as his secretary.

“The Wicked Witch of the Westerlands invited you to the ballet?” came Bella’s voice from the door. “When was the last time you went to the ballet?”

Gendry put the tickets back down and walked around his desk to sit. He faced his sister as she took a seat in one of the chairs across from him. “I don’t know. It’s been a while. I’m probably not going to go to this one.” He opened up his laptop.

Bella rolled her eyes. “Isn’t this the grand reopening of the Dragonpit? I think you should go. Maybe even take an actual date. When was the last time you went on one of those?”

“Bella, I have to work.”

“All you do is work.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“When _work_ is your life? Yes. Almost thirty years old and already married to your job.” Bella sighed. “Take Mom. I think she’d love to go.”

“Why don’t you take Mom?” Gendry could see Bella was already texting their mother... from his phone. How had she even gotten it?

“There. Now you’re going with Mom. Please try not to look like you’re smelling something rotten the whole time. I’m sure Cersei will have press there.” Bella rose from her seat and left Gendry alone. He found himself wishing it would rain.

* * *

It did not rain. In fact, the day of the ballet was absolutely perfect. It was an sunny day just at the beginning of fall. There was very little breeze and the temperature was just right. It seemed to have the whole of King’s Landing in good spirits. Everyone except Gendry, of course. He tried to school his face into one less severe when he made it to his mother’s house to pick her up. He let himself in the quaint cottage and saw his eldest sister was in the kitchen washing dishes.

“Hey. Here to get Mom?”

“Yeah. Where is she?” Gendry noticed a pot on the stove. He walked over to it. Just as he started to open it, he felt Mya kick him. He frowned at her but stepped away from the pot. Instead, he got a bottle of water from the refrigerator and sat at the kitchen island.

“She’ll be along.” Mya finished washing the dishes and dried her hands. She retrieved a bowl from the cabinet and fixed Gendry a bowl of the stew she’d made. She slid the bowl towards him and looked him over. He looked like his usual grumpy self. “The ballet, huh? And here I thought you’d never go to the ballet again.”

Gendry grunted and started eating. “It’s the grand reopening. I’m only going to appease Cersei’s donors. Are you going to bug me about not taking a date like Bella?”

Mya laughed. “She has a point. Maybe if you got laid, you wouldn’t be such a prick all the time.” She laughed again when Gendry turned his glare away from her. “Seriously, are you okay about this?”

“It’s just a ballet.”

“I know, but...”

“It’s fine. I’m not concerned about... that. You shouldn’t be concerned, either. I’m going to go, watch the dancing, shake some hands, and then bring Mom home. That’s it,” he said firmly. Gendry knew where Mya was taking the conversation. He really had no desire to discuss it with her... or ever again. So, he concentrated on finishing the bowl of stew in front of him.

Mya worried about Gendry. He was already not very forthcoming with how he was feeling. It had only gotten worse over the past five years. Most people would pick up the pieces of a broken heart and try to mend it. Gendry had not done that so much as he swept the pieces up and deposited them in the trash. He seemed to be of the opinion that having no heart to break was best.

“Gendry!” Cirra came into the kitchen, dressed smartly and ready to go. She looked between her son and daughter. “Something wrong?”

Mya shook her head. “Not at all. You two have fun,” she said. She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek and picked up Gendry’s now empty bowl to place in the sink.

Cirra appeared confused for a moment. Then she faced Gendry and appraised him. “Don’t you look sharp. Let’s get going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s this? Another WIP? This one has been sitting in the drafts for months; so long that I keep renewing it. So I’m throwing caution to the wind and just posting this.


	2. I Miss You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I thought that things like this get better with time  
>  But I still need you  
> Why is that?  
> _   
> 

* * *

A week had passed when Jon decided Arya had moped enough. In the back of his mind, he wondered what she had to be sad about. It was decision she made. Arya did not tend to dwell too long on decisions she made, no matter their consequences. It was always on to the next with her. So Jon had not thought this particular decision would have a different outcome.

Other than potentially souring the relationship between the Baratheons and Starks, Jon did not think there would be much in the way of consequences. Even then, Mya Baratheon had been the only one with anything particularly malevolent to say. Even the hurt party had seemed to just let or roll off of him like water. That had been strange to see considering how Jon knew he usually took bad news. The lack of reaction had been a little shocking.

“Has she come down?” Jon asked, looking around the kitchen.

Sansa shook her head, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “I don’t know why she’s up there brooding in the first place. Isn’t this what she wanted?”

Jon sighed. “Sansa...”

“Oh don’t coddle her, Jon.“

“Maybe she this time she does regret it.”

Sansa scoffed. “Arya Stark? Little miss YOLO? Regret? Please. If anything she’s finally feeling the weight of the mess her careless actions have caused.” She gathered her coffee and plate of lemon cakes and left the kitchen, red hair swinging behind her.

Jon now found himself outside of Arya’s door, holding his hand up to knock. He shook his head and tried the doorknob. Surprisingly, it was unlocked. Jon turned it and walked into the room. Arya was not known for her tidiness, but even the mess that was before Jon was a bit much.

Arya was in the window, staring out at the snow-covered yard. Her hair was messy and she was still dressed in her lounge clothes. There were a few empty mugs gathered on the nightstand beside her bed. Jon spotted the wilting flower crown she was supposed to wear sitting on the nightstand as well. She did not look in Jon’s direction when he crossed the room to sit beside her in the other chair. Jon continued to watch her but said nothing. He wondered if she would speak first. It was a few minutes before Arya even moved.

She heaved a sigh. “Come to drag me out of my room?” she asked, never taking her eyes off of the snow.

“You know I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to, Arya. I just came to see how you were holding up,” he replied.

“Well,” Arya finally looked in his direction, “I feel like absolute shit.”

Jon nodded. “Understandable. Can I ask why?”

“Why do I feel like shit?”

“Why you ran away.”

Arya scoffed. “I didn’t run away. I guess I just got cold feet.” She thought about how she snuck out the house and into the godswood to hide... barefoot in the snow. “Very cold feet.” In retrospect, it had not been a very good hiding place. Jon had likely known where she was, but he had not come looking for her until much later. However, he had not come after her like he always did and Arya knew that he knew where she had gone. His absence had surprised her.

“But why? You waited until the day of and then you didn’t tell anyone. You just...” Jon waved his hand.

“I was scared. Marriage is supposed to be forever, right? Like Mom and Dad. But what if it’s not? What if we grow sick of each other? What if we start hating each other? I don't want him to hate me. I don't think i could handle that.”

Jon chuckled softly. “If he hasn’t gotten sick of you in the fifteen years you’ve known each other, I don’t think he’d suddenly decide he can’t stand you. That’s a shit reason, Arya.” He moves closer to her. “What’s really the reason?”

Arya shrugged and looked back out the window. “That is the reason. I’m terrified it won’t work out.”

“And you didn’t express this with him?”

“He seemed so happy about everything. I didn’t want to ruin it for him.” She let out a sardonic laugh. “I guess I still did in the end.”

They lapsed into silence. Jon’s mind traveled back to a week before when everything had happened. There had barely been much of a reaction beyond a frown. Mya had been livid, though. If Jon thought he was protective then he paled in comparison to Mya. Jon could not figure out why he did not go after Arya. He’d usually followed her lead in anything. Instead, he’d just... left. It was so unlike him.

“Have you tried talking to him?” Jon asked after a few minutes of silence. Arya nodded. “And?”

“He isn’t answering his phone. Two days after everything, I went to his apartment. He was gone. I left him a note but I still haven’t heard from him. And don’t ask me about his family. I heard what Mya said about me.”

Jon cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. “Yeah. Mya was... harsh. Bella was more worried than anything. But you should have told him you had concerns. He listens to you. He would have understood.”

Arya pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged herself. “I know! I know! But I just wasn’t thinking. Gods, he had to be furious. I've messed up so bad, Jon. What am I going to do?”

* * *

_**5 years later...** _

  
“Don’t you ever oversleep?” Syrio Forel asked as he walked up the steps leading to the studio. Arya was leaning against the wall and waiting for him. “Just once, I would like to see you stroll in late. Or hell... Just miss rehearsal altogether.”

Arya scoffed. “Why would I do that?”

“To surprise me.” Syrio unlocked the door and pushed it open. “At this rate I should just give you a key so you can open up the studio for me.”

“Yes. You should.” Arya slithered past him and into the studio. She went to the farthest corner; the corner she had designated for herself a few years ago. None of the other dancers infringed upon her territory. In fact, most of them were either intimidated by her or reverent. By the time she was ready to start, the rest of the dancers were filing in noisily. Arya went over to the barre by the window and began her stretches.

Fallen leaves floated past the window as they fell. Autumn came earlier in the North. There would be a snow just as the rest of the country was getting into the colder temperatures. Arya’s thoughts briefly turned to King’s Landing. The company would be traveling to the south in a week. She had not been back to King’s Landing in 5 years. The last time she had gone had not ended well. Despite her many attempts, she still remembered the last time she was in King’s Landing. It had not gone well.

* * *

_It was nearly a month since she’d last seen Gendry. He had not answered any of her calls. She had no idea if he’d even read her letter. He had not been back to his apartment in Winterfell. Arya had even tried to see if he’d taken the reservation at the God’s Eye only to be told that while he had come, he was no longer there. She was down to her last option._

_His family._

_There was no way in hell Gendry would tell Robert anything and Arya was very reluctant to contact his siblings. That left his mother. She sat in the rental car and stared at the little house Cirra Waters stayed in. Taking a deep breath, she got out and walked up to the front doors she rang the doorbell and waited. When the door opened a minute later, it was not blonde hair and hazel eyes she was met with. Black hair and blue eyes that were so reminiscent of Gendry were what was before her._

_“Mya...” Arya whispered._

_Mya narrowed her eyes. “What the fuck are you doing here?” she asked._

_Arya straightened up and steeled herself. She was not going to let Mya intimidate her. “I want to talk to Ms. Cirra.”_

_“For what? Haven’t you done enough to my family? You have some nerve coming here and…” Before Mya could finish laying into Arya, the door opened further to reveal Cirra._

_“Mya, stop it.” Cirra turned her attention to Arya. “Come in, Arya,” she said. She immediately turned around and headed back inside the house. Arya stepped past Mya without looking at her._

_Cirra led her into a living room. She sat down in an armchair and gestured for Arya to sit across from her. As Arya was sitting, Mya appeared in the entryway. She leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, glaring daggers at Arya._

_“So what brings you here?” Cirra asked._

_Arya cleared her throat. She had never been afraid to speak with Gendry’s mother. Cirra had always been kind to her and treated her like another daughter. The older woman looked tired, though. “I was just wondering if you’d heard from Gendry.”_

_Cirra blinked a few times before nodding. “I have. He’s not here, though.”_

_“I didn’t think he’d be here. I just want...”_

_“Want?” Mya scoffed._

_“Mya,” Cirra said sternly. “When I say he’s not here, I mean he’s not in King’s Landing. He’s not even in Westeros.”_

_“So where has he gone?”_

_“To Qohor.”_

_“Why Qohor?” Arya asked. She had a feeling she already knew the answer, though. From the look on Cirra’s face, she also knew that Arya could piece it together on her own. “The university.”_

_Cirra nodded. “Said that he was going to finally finish his degree.”_

_“Since he has the time now,” Mya intoned. Cirra glared at her. Mya rolled her eyes and left the room._

_Cirra sighed deeply. “Forgive Mya. She’s... a Baratheon,” she said as if that explained it all. In a way, Arya supposed it did. Baratheons had legendary tempers. “They all have intense emotions. They feel very deeply. Even Bella, believe it or not. But why are you here, Arya?”_

_“I wanted to talk to Gendry. I’ve been trying to since the...” Arya trailed off. “Are you... mad... at me?” she asked quietly._

_The older woman shook her head. “I’m sympathetic to my son. I bear you no ill will, though. I know what happened was not out of spite,” she said sagely._

_Arya nodded. It comforted her somewhat to know that Cirra did not want her head on a spike. She glanced in the direction in which Mya had disappeared. The eldest daughter was another matter entirely. Mya has always seemed wary of Arya even though Arya was sure she’d never given her reason to._

_“He is hurt,” Cirra said suddenly. Arya looked up at her. “But he’s Gendry. He’ll sulk, lick his wounds, and come back ready to face the world again. He’ll be fine, Arya. Do you mind sharing why you left? You don’t have to. I’m just curious.”_

_“Fear. “_

_Cirra frowned. “Fear of what?”_

_“Us.”_

* * *

Arya had figured Gendry would be mad. But she had not expected him to leave the country entirely. She’d heard through their mutual acquaintances that he’d returned two years later. Arya herself had left Westeros as well. She’d gone to Braavos to further her dance education. After getting all she could out of Braavos, she returned to the North. Syrio had offered her a place in his company after one audition.

And now he was trying to get rid of her.

“He just wants you to be the best you can be,” Lyanna Mormont told Arya as they went through their drills. “And I agree with him. You’re wasting your talent here. One of the bigger companies would love to have you. The world needs to know Arya Stark, not Winterfell.”

“I would have to leave the North,” Arya whined.

Lyanna rolled her eyes. “You left the North when you went to Braavos. Listen. We’re going to do these shows in King’s Landing. You’re going to show those directors what you’re made of. They’re going to offer you all the jobs. You’re going to pick one. And you’re going to be great.”

* * *

King’s Landing was as she remembered it. It smelled of saltwater and trash. It was loud. It was crowded. It was not the North. The dancers were herded onto a bus and taken to where they would be performing in two days. The last time Arya had seen the Dragonpit, it was old and rundown. Now it looked like something out of a science fiction movie. She was impressed with the architecture.

Syrio clapped his hands, gaining the dancers’ attention. “Okay! Everyone get your shoes on and stretched. We’re going to do a few run-throughs while we’re here. After, we go to the hotel!” His voice echoed over a chorus of groans. “Let’s go! If you do it, no mistakes, we only do it once! Arya, would you come here please?”

“What is it?” Arya asked, fishing her pointe shoes out of the tote bag she brought with her.

“There will be two directors to see you dance at different points: the Silk Company and the Littlefinger Theatre,” Syrio said.

“I assume you’re telling me this because there is one you prefer,” Arya replied with a smirk.

Syrio nodded. “I would prefer the Silk Company. Chataya is a great director. She takes care of the dancers. Treats them like family. You will not be just another employee. Littlefinger is more... militant. I don’t think you would do well there.”

Arya tapped her finger on her chin. “But they still have to offer me a job.”

“Chataya will not pass you up. She has good eyes for talent and you are talented. But when you meet the directors you can judge on your own.” Arya blushed a little at his praise. He patted her shoulder and moved past her. Arya went to the edge of the stage and sat down to put her shoes on. It would seem she had a lot to think about.

* * *

“Arya, I’m exhausted, my feet hurt, and I could clear a whole buffet by myself. Where are you taking me?” Lyanna whined from her right side.

“You said you’re hungry so we’re going to get some food.” Arya turned a corner. She smiled when she saw the sign for Hot Pie’s. She dragged Lyanna across the street and into the cute little diner. It was late and it appeared that there was a shift change. But wiping down the counter was a familiar face. Arya smiled and walked up to the counter. “So I hear the meat pies here have the crispiest crusts.”

“The secret is putting a little butter on the dough before baking,” Hot Pie responded on reflex. He looked up from his task. “Arry!”

“Hello, Hot Pie.” Arya watched him come around the counter and pull her into a hug. “I missed you too.”

Hot Pie pulled back and looked her over. “It’s so good to see you.”

“How’s business been?”

“Business has been great. I’ve had this place up and running for about three years now. The first year was rough, but a critic gave me a glowing review after having one of my pies. My tarts are also really popular. But enough about this place. You still dance?”

Arya nodded. “Of course. In fact, we,” she gestured to Lyanna, “have a run at the Dragonpit for the next two weeks. I can get you tickets if you want to come.”

Hot Pie raised an eyebrow. “The Dragonpit? Oh that’s right! The renovations for it recently finished. So you’re opening it back up? That’s great.” He looked slightly past Arya. “I’m Hot Pie.”

Lyanna stepped up beside Arya. “Lyanna Mormont. Is... Is your real name Hot Pie?”

Hot Pie shook his head. “No, but it’s what everyone has called me as long as I can remember.”

“He doesn’t even answer to his real name. It’s like he’s forgotten it’s his name. So what’s the special today? I’m starving.” Arya almost laughed when Hot Pie launched into a very detailed description of his specials for the day.

While she and Lyanna ate in a corner booth in the mostly-empty diner, Arya heard the door open. Her eyes were drawn to the front of the diner and widened when she noticed who it was. It was just her luck that a Baratheon would choose this night to come in. It was Mya. Outside of her hair going from a curly bob to a curly pixie, she looked the same. Arya prayed Hot Pie did not draw attention to her.

Lyanna noticed Arya trying to use her as a shield. “What’s wrong with you?” She turned around to see what had caught Arya’s attention. “Is that Mya Baratheon?”

“Shhhh!” Arya hissed.

“She hasn’t changed much. I think that haircut looks good on her.” Lyanna turned back towards Arya. “If you take a job here then you’re bound to come across one of them eventually. The family practically owns this city.”

Arya watched Mya leave with a bag. “Yes, but I’d rather that happen later rather than sooner. Or not at all.”

Lyanna pursed her lips. “If that’s what you want to tell yourself...”

“What do you mean?”

“Be honest. You do want to see them again. They were like a second family and you miss them. It’s fine to admit it.” Lyanna thought for a second. “Well, Mya never really warmed up to you but that’s just because she’s very protective of her siblings. That has less to do with you than with outsiders in general.”

Arya stares at Lyanna. “When did you get so knowledgeable about Mya Baratheon’s thought process?”

Lyanna shrugged. “She reminds me of my sisters. But I do think if you’re going to stay here then you should at least go see Ms. Waters.”

“Maybe...” A few minutes later, Hot Pie came over to their table to clear the plates. Arya decided to throw caution to the wind. “Pie, do they come here often?”

Hot Pie seemed confused for a moment before realizing who she was talking about. “Mya? Oh yeah. She loves my pies. Bella loves my malts. Gendry,” he cleared his throat, “comes the most, though. He’s here almost every day for coffee and a tart. Why? That’s not going to put you off, is it?”

Arya shook her head. “Of course not. I was just wondering. I’ll definitely be back. There’s a whole menu for me to try.”

“Hopefully not too much.” Lyanna glanced at one of the small dessert menus on the table. “But I will have a slice of this orange creamsicle pie.”

* * *

Opening night was as hectic as Arya expected it to be. Arya’s solo was closer to end of the show, so she got to watch everyone else from the wings. By the time she would go out, it would be completely dark outside. Syrio had already pointed out who she needed to impress. Arya was not usually one to judge a book by its cover, but the director of Littlefinger creeped her out just a little.

“Get ready, Arya!” someone called.

Arya was to go beneath the stage where she would rise from a trapdoor. When she got there, the audience was applauding the group ahead of her off the stage. She stepped into position on the lift.

“Good luck up there,” the stagehand said.

Arya looked at him and nodded. She took a deep breath as the applause died and lowered her head while the lift began to rise. She came up in the middle of the stage. When the music started, she raised her head and looked out at the audience.

The first thing she saw were his blue eyes.


	3. Never Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A drug and a dream  
>  We lost connection  
> Oh come back to me  
> So I can feel alive again  
> Soul and body try to mend_   
> 

* * *

Cirra watched Arya glide across the stage. Her unorthodox costume certainly fit the piece. Somehow it was both playful and dark. Along with being nearly technically perfect, Arya put a lot of emotion in her dancing. It was a joy to watch. However, Cirra did notice one stumble. When she first came up on the stage, Arya had paused like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and shocked. She supposed it was not a coincidence that Gendry had tensed up beside her at the same time. It was only a few seconds, but Cirra had noticed and she would be lying if she was not mentally leaping for joy.

She expected Arya to feel something when she saw Gendry again. But she was not so sure about Gendry. Her only son had become something of an enigma even to her. He had become so closed off to everyone. Not that he was very open with his emotions before but Cirra had always known her son. That he seemed affected by seeing Arya at all was a good thing. Five years had clearly done nothing but festered painful denial and stubbornness from Gendry.

But what was Arya’s excuse?

Cirra snuck a look at Gendry. His eyes were glued on the stage. It was dark but she could see his eyes following Arya as she twirled and leapt around the stage. There was no discernible expression on his face. Cirra smiled to herself and placed her hand over Gendry’s. He was gripping the arm of the chair probably a lot harder than he intended. He relaxed at her touch but did not look away from the stage.

* * *

While Gendry was sufficiently occupied with potential clients when Cirra slipped away. She wandered around until she made it backstage. No one seemed to find it strange that an older woman was perusing the corridor while the dancers rushed to and fro. Gone was their stage makeup and flowing costumes. They were all now dressed like they were going to a club. Cirra continued until she found a familiar face.

Lyanna was leaning against the wall beside a closed door. She was looking at something on her phone when a shadow passed over her. Frowning, she looked up. The frown instantly melted into a smile. “Ms. Waters! It’s so good to see you!” She reached forward and hugged the older woman.

“It’s good to see you too, Lyanna. How have you been?”

“Great. I’ve worked my way from the corps to soloist. Arya is just inside. Do you want me to...”

Cirra shook her head quickly. “Not yet. I don’t think that would be a good idea at the moment. But I do want you to give her this.” She handed Lyanna a small white business card. “Tell her it’s from me. And you two did an amazing job tonight. I might come see you again.” Cirra waved and headed back out the way she came.

Lyanna watched the older woman until she could not see her anymore. Then she looked down at the white card. It was a simple business card for _Cirra Architecture_.

* * *

Arya was still sitting in front of the mirror in the dressing room. She was still in a state of shock after her dance. She did not know how she even made it through the dance. She hardly remembered anything after seeing his eyes. It was if one moment she was looking at him and the next the curtain was falling. After taking her final bow, Arya had all but sprinted back to the dressing rooms.

“Why am I surprised? He rebuilt this place. Of course he would be here for the reopening,” Arya muttered. She remembered how he sat there completely stone-faced as she danced. “At least he was here with his mother.” She was not sure she would have handled seeing him with another woman very well even after all this time. Arya also remembered the way Cirra sat next to her son, smiling while Arya danced. She had always liked to watch Arya dance.

Sighing, Arya finished changing and walked outside. Lyanna was still waiting by the door. The other girl held a small white card out to Arya. Raising an eyebrow, Arya took it and read it.

“Ms. Waters came by while you were in there. Seemed really happy but couldn’t stay.” Lyanna watched Arya read over the card. “You should go see her. Have tea or something.”

Arya nodded and slipped the card into the wristlet she carried. “Did she say anything about...”

“Gendry? No. But I’d wager that she used that business card for a reason.” Lyanna wiggled her eyebrows.

“ _Cirra Architecture_ ,” Arya whispered with a small smile. She looked up to see Lyanna staring up at her expectantly. “Fine. I’ll try. But I’m going to see Ms. Cirra first. Let’s go.”

* * *

When Bella opened the door to Gendry’s loft, she was unsurprised to see it bathed in darkness except for the pendant lights over the kitchen island. She saw Gendry sitting on a stool at the island doing exactly what she’d expected him to be doing after hearing about the ballet: brooding. She locked the door behind her and walked over to the kitchen. She turned on the light and went to his refrigerator.

“So how was it?” Bella asked as she found a tub of vanilla ice cream she kept stashed in his freezer. She took a seat across from him. “Mom said she had a good time.”

Gendry was staring at the glass if water in front of him. “It was a ballet,” he replied. “I met with some potential clients. Might take a job in Oldtown.”

Bella watched him for a few more moments in silence. Then she put her spoon down. “And how did you feel about seeing Arya again?” Saying her name is what got Gendry to finally look away from his water. His glare had no effect on Bella. “Mom said she had a solo. I’ve always liked watching her dance. I’m almost sorry I didn’t...”

“What do you want to know, Bella?”

“I want to know how you felt seeing her.”

“Nothing. I felt nothing.”

“So _nothing_ is why you’re moping in the dark? Come on, Gen. Talk about it. Then you can process it.”

Gendry sighed and glared at the wall. “I just never thought I’d see her again.”

Bella snorted. “Oh Gen. That was bound to happen eventually. Though, I am surprised it took five years. You two were pretty good at avoiding one another. How did she look?”

“Older,” he answered after a moment of contemplation.

“Gen, never tell a woman she looks older.”

“It’s not a bad thing. She always had a way of looking younger than she actually is. Now it’s like her face matches her age.” Gendry drank the rest of his water and stood.

Bella nodded slowly and watched her brother meander about the kitchen. When he came back to sit, he was carrying another spoon. Bella pushed the carton to the middle of the island and Gendry stuck his spoon inside. “Did she say anything to you?”

“Why would she?”

“Why _wouldn’t_ she?”

Gendry rolled his eyes. “After her dance I didn’t see her anymore. Like I said, I had clients. I also don’t have anything to say to her.” He stuffed a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.

Bella nodded. “I think you should talk to her.”

“I just said I don’t have anything to say to her.”

“Who said you needed to say anything? Maybe what you need to do is _listen_. I think you two could do with a little closure. Who knows? Maybe it'll help you move on.”

Gendry stood suddenly. “I have moved on.” He tossed his spoon in the sink and stalked off to the stairs that led to his bed.

Bella watched him go. She knew Gendry was far from over Arya. And if she knew anything about Arya, she felt the same way. But Bella also knew Gendry was immensely hurt by what Arya did. He was also stubborn and prideful. She quietly smiled to herself. He would deny it to his dying day but Gendry was every bit their father’s son. She finished her ice cream in silence.

Gendry sat at the edge of his bed. He could hear Bella still moving around beneath the loft. Seeing Arya had shaken him. He once thought he was prepared but as is the case with Arya, she had thrown him for a loop. She was still as beautiful as he remembered. Her dancing was still as mesmerizing. The unique costume she’d worn made her even more enchanting. His declaration that he had moved on had sounded weak even to him so he knew he had not convinced Bella. He looked over the railing when Bella called out that she was leaving.

Once the door closed, Gendry buried his head in his hands. He had a feeling Bella would not leave well enough alone.

* * *

Arya walked down the boardwalk that overlooked Blackwater Bay. She had many fond memories of the boardwalk. It had been a place she frequented with Gendry. Not much had changed since the last time she was here. The same food and souvenir stands lined the boardwalk. People still rollerbladed up and down the path with little care if they bumped into others.

It was also where Gendry proposed to her.

But right now Arya was stalling. It was Friday and she had the day off so she decided to pay Cirra that visit. The boardwalk was not far from her house, so Arya had decided to stop there first. She needed to get the jitters out. Seeing Cirra was not an issue. It was Mya that Arya was worried about. If she remembered correctly, while Mya did not live with Cirra, she spent a lot of time there. Would she be there this time? Would Gendry be there? Arya was definitely sure she was not ready to see Gendry yet. She also did not just want to blindside him.

“Man up. I’m a fucking Stark. Wolves are not cowards,” Arya whispered to herself. She reached the end of the boardwalk and took a right turn. Cirra’s house was only three blocks away.

* * *

The house had been painted from a dusty blue to a pastel yellow. There were purple tulips planted along the front and lining the pathway to the front porch. There was no car in the driveway, but Arya knew Cirra did not have one. Mya did, however. So that probably meant Cirra was here alone. That took away a little of Arya’s anxiety and she continued up the porch steps to the front door. Taking a deep breath, she rang the doorbell. There was a garbled noise that took Arya by surprise.

“ _I keep forgetting to ask Gendry to repair that damn thing. Just a minute!_ ” came the muffled response from the other side. A few moments later, the door swung open to reveal Cirra wearing an apron that was smeared with what looked like flour. Her brown eyes lit up. “Arya!” She pulled Arya into a hug, surprising her. Arya was quick to return it. Cirra pulled back and looked her over. A bit of flour had gotten on Arya's shirt. Cirra dusted it off easily. “Oh, I wish you would have called first. I would have cleaned up a little.” She turned around and beckoned Arya to follow her.

Arya walked in and shut the door behind her. “There’s no need to do anything special on account of me.” She followed Cirra into then kitchen. Sure enough, there were two round pans filled with cake batter sitting on the island. There was also a large pot on the stove. Arya could not see what was inside but it smelled marvelous.

“Either way, you came at a good time. After I put these in the oven, we can sit, have some lemonade, and catch up. Go on and wait for me in the living room.” Cirra shooed Arya out of the kitchen.

Smiling, Arya did as she was told. The living room was as she remembered it. The only things different were a few new picture frames across the mantle over the fireplace. Arya walked over to look at them. One was a picture of Gendry holding his new degree with Cirra by his side. Another was of Gendry and Bella standing in front of a new office space. Bella was gesturing to a bronze plaque sign that read _Cirra Architecture_. The third picture frame was empty.

“I haven’t decided what I want to put on that one yet.” Arya whirled around. Cirra was sitting a tray on the coffee table. There was a carafe of pink lemonade along with a small bowl of pretzels. Arya went over to the couch and took a seat. “So tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Arya shrugged. “Still a dancer. I went for training in Braavos after...” she trailed off and looked at the tray. She licked up a glass and poured some of the lemonade. “I stayed there for about two years. Came back and I’ve been with the Northern Company ever since.”

Cirra nodded and poured herself some lemonade. “That’s lovely. I’ve heard the Braavosi companies are hard to get in. Which one did you get into?”

“The House of Black and White. It was a... harrowing experience. They taught me well but it always felt like I was in competition. Dancing became more of a chore. That’s why I came back. Well, that and I missed the North.”

“I’ve heard of that company. Some people say it’s almost cult-like.” Cirra saw Arya nod in agreement. “Well, I’m glad you’re back. Five years is a long time.”

“I might be staying longer. My director is trying to get rid of me,” Arya said. She laughed at the look Cirra gave her. “Not like that. He just thinks I could really be a star. So he set it up for the directors of the Littlefinger Theatre and the Silk Company to come see me.”

Cirra clasped her hands together happily. “That’s amazing!”

Arya shrugged. “But what’s been new with you... all?”

Cirra raised an eyebrow and Arya knew she was not exactly being subtle. “Well...”

They were interrupted by the front door loudly opening. There was the sound of little feet running through the foyer and towards the living room. Arya blinked in surprise when a raven-haired child flew into the room. The child threw herself into Cirra’s lap.

“Hi, Nana!”

“Well hello, sprite. You’re early,” Cirra said. “Where’s your...”

“Arya?” Bella was standing in the entryway. Arya gave her a small wave but Bella shook her head. “What was that? Bring it in.” She walked over to Arya with her arms open. Well, if there was one person Arya did not have to worry about it was Bella. She was engulfed in a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Same here. Is she yours?”

Bella appeared confused for a moment. Then she looked down at the child who was sitting in Cirra’s lap. She laughed. “Of course not! She’s my sister, Barra.”

Now Arya was the one who was confused. “Sister?” She glanced back over at Cirra, who shook her head. Arya sighed in understanding. “She’s Robert’s?”

“Yep. Her mother is a dancer of a different sort. We don’t mind taking care of her when Mhaegen needs the help. She sees Mom as a grandmother.”

Arya looked back at the little girl. She was no more than 2, maybe 3. She was clinging to Cirra while staring at Arya with big Baratheon blue eyes. There was no mistaking her as Robert’s. “Does anyone else know about her?”

Cirra sighed. “Cersei does, if that’s what you’re asking. She was furious. Won’t let Robert publicly claim the girl or she’ll divorce him. He does at least try to see her once a month.”

Arya sat back down and looked at Barra. “Hi, Barra. I’m Arya.”

Barra’s eyebrows crinkled in the same way Gendry’s did when he was thinking. “Arwah?”

“Close enough,” Arya said with a laugh.

* * *

Her brother was right where Mya expected him to be when she sauntered into his office. His desk was covered in rolled-up blueprints and scattered measuring tools. Gendry was turned to the right, bent over his drafting table. Mya went and sat down in the chair across from him and watched closely. Gendry could be so focused on his work that the building could come crashing down around him and he would only brush the dust off his shoulder.

“Are you almost done?” Mya asked after a while.

“In a minute,” Gendry mumbled, not taking his eyes off his work.

Mya also knew that this was the best time to ask Gendry questions. He answered on autopilot. “You never told me how the ballet went,” she said conversationally.

“You never asked.”

“Well? How was it? Mom said she had a great time.”

“Unconventional describes it best.”

Mya nodded. “Did she dance?”

“Principal.” He sat his pencil down and swiveled around in his chair to face Mya. “Are you going to interrogate me like Bella?” He was frowning at her.

Mya smiled and shrugged. “At least I waited a few days. Bella probably came at you the next day at work.”

Gendry snorted. “More like she came over to my place that night. You two will pry until I tell you something substantial.”

“I’ll only ask one more,” Mya promised. Gendry raised a black eyebrow but nodded for her to continue anyway. “I’m fairly certain you won’t go seeking her out. But if she comes to you, what will you do?”

Gendry sighed and looked away from Mya. He stared at the unfinished sketch on his drawing table. It was for a new wing of the library at the Citadel in Oldtown. Once the designs were approved, he would need to be in Oldtown to oversee the construction. That meant months away from King’s Landing. That’s what he should be focusing on. Not wondering if he wants to deal with Arya Stark.

“Why would she even want to see me? She’s the one who left,” he said.

Mya shrugged. “Closure?”

Gendry scoffed loudly and began tidying up his desk. “Bella said the same thing. Mom made dinner?” he asked.

“Yes. Mhaegen is working tonight so Barra is staying over with us. Bella already picked her up. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see her Genny.” Mya wiggled her eyebrows. If anyone could put her brother in a good mood it was Barra. She stood up and walked to the office door. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Cirra was stirring the pot of meat sauce she’d had simmering. Behind her, Bella was taking the cakes out of the oven. Bella sat them down on trays and then looked at her mother. The older woman was humming to herself as if she had not a care in the world. Bella leaned against the counter and cleared her throat loudly.

“Bella, could you get a bowl and put some plain spaghetti in it for Barra?” Cirra ignored the pointed look her daughter was giving her.

Bella did as she was told and sat the bowl to the side. “Did you know she was coming over?” she finally asked.

“No...”

“Mom...”

“I didn’t. I did invite her, though. I said to come over whenever she had time. Today was the day she had time,” Cirra said.

“But Gendry will be here soon.”

Cirra looked at Bella. “Is that a problem?”

Bella threw her hands up. “Mom, I don’t think Gendry even wants to see her.”

“Oh please. You didn’t see him at the ballet. He still loves that girl.”

“So you want them to get back together?”

“No. I want them to talk. Whatever that leads to is up to them. But it’s clear neither of them has gotten over the other. And the Seven know they’ll dance around each other until dragons return if someone doesn’t get the ball rolling. It’ll be fine.” Cirra turned away from Bella and went to where the ingredients for the salad were already out on the counter. “Now come help me finish this salad.”

The front door opened and heavy footsteps were heard. Bella inwardly winced, already knowing who it was that had arrived. She sent a silent prayer to the gods that everything did not blow up in their faces. It was going to be a long, awkward few hours.

“I’m home!” Mya came through the front door loudly. She poked her head in the kitchen. “It smells amazing in here. What’s with that face, Bella?” She went over to the sink to wash her hands. “Move. You’re terrible at chopping.”

Bella let Mya take over chopping up the lettuce. “Is Gendry here?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah. Said he was going to sit with Barra.” Mya watched Bella slip out of the room quickly. With a raised eyebrow, she looked at Cirra. “What’s up with her?”

Cirra smirked. “Maybe she had something to tell him.”

* * *

Bella headed for the living room. She stopped when she saw Gendry standing in the entryway, still as stone. She took a deep breath and walked up to him. She followed his gaze. Barra had somehow planted herself in Arya’s lap and roped the dancer into coloring with her. The child seemed to sense they were being watched and looked up from her work.

“Genny!” she squealed.

Arya’s eyes widened and she looked up quickly. Of course, the first thing she would make eye contact with was Gendry’s own eyes. It was frustrating. She barely noticed Barra climbing down from her lap and toddling over to Gendry. The two just remained locked in a stare-down.

“Hey.”


	4. Footsteps in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Honey, now lets stop walkin' around  
>  When there's love lost to be found  
> And you know I still care, I still care  
> What's the sense in goin' elsewhere_  
> 

* * *

To say that dinner was a tense affair was grossly understating it. Bella doubted a chainsaw could cut through it. The only people who seemed completely unaffected were Cirra and Barra. For what it’s worth, after his initial shock at seeing her, Gendry had acted incredibly civil towards Arya. But that’s all it was. Civil. He was not rude. He passed the salt. He did not send her death glares from across the table. That was certainly better than Mya was doing. While she had not said anything yet, Bella knew it was only a matter of time until Mya stopped stabbing her salad and told everyone what was on her mind.

“So, Arya,” Bella broke the silence, “how long will you be in King’s Landing?” she asked.

Arya cleared her throat and looked up. “I don’t know yet. I’m looking into joining a company down here.”

Bella smiled. “Oooh... That sounds interesting. If you decide to stay, let me know. I can find you a place.”

“You don’t have...”

“It’s what I do. That one would still be living on River Row if I didn’t do the apartment hunting for him.” Bella motioned towards Gendry. He looked up from his food and glowered at her. “Don’t look at me like that. You know that place was a trash heap. You only stayed there because you didn’t want to stay here or with one of us and you were too lazy to do any proper apartment-hunting.”

“There was nothing wrong with that apartment,” Gendry mumbled, glaring back down at his plate.

“Gendry, that place was awful.” Bella looked back at Arya. “It was close to the Mud Gate so you know it reeked of fish and trash. The air conditioner didn’t even work and you know how it gets in the summer. Gendry didn’t spend any substantial time in it anyway, seeing how he was always working. But still... It was trash. Once we got the firm up and running, the first thing I did was get him out of that shithole.”

Arya knew Bella had just thrown her bait. She bit her lip and looked at Gendry. He was still glaring at his plate while eating. “Congratulations, by the way.” She swallowed when he raised his head in question. “For starting your firm. I know how much you like building things.”

Gendry slowly finished chewing. Outside of the stilted greeting, this was the first time they actually looked at one another and spoke. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “It was Bella’s idea to start the firm, though. Thought it was better to go into business for myself instead of joining a firm.”

“He was actually thinking about taking a job with Daddy’s company. Can you believe that? You would’ve been wasted there. Uncle Stannis probably would’ve forced you into an administration job and you’d be miserable.”

Cirra chuckled a bit. “I don’t think Renly would have let that happen.”

“Technically you still work for Dad’s company,” Mya said. Everyone looked in her direction. “They made a deal with Uncle Stannis that the firm would be a subsidiary of Baratheon Industries.”

Bella shook her head. “It’s only temporary. Five years and Gendry has the option to buy Uncle Stannis’ shares for full ownership.”

“What you two failed to realize is that after those five years, the firm will be worth at least five times more what it is,” Mya grumbled.

Arya got the impression that this was a bit of a sore spot. She knew their uncle was as shrewd a businessman as there ever was. Mya knew how he conducted business. Apparently, she had not been consulted by her younger siblings when signing a contract with the company. Arya had to agree that she would have told them to see a bank for a loan instead.

“I’m well aware of that, Mya. In two years, I’ll be able to buy Uncle Stannis out with no problems.” Gendry sent a sarcastic wink down at his sister. She stuck her tongue out at him. “But this is why you take care of the business side now.”

Mya scoffed. “Because you and Bella are hopeless and without me, you’d undercharge for everything.”

“You know you love us, big sis.”

The atmosphere was significantly less stuffy after that. Arya could still feel Mya shooting her glares every now and then, but at least the awkwardness had passed. She found it hard to speak directly to Gendry. Instead, she spoke generally. Sometimes Gendry answered and sometimes he remained silent.

“Gendry, help me clear these plates and bring out dessert. Mya, put Barra to bed. She’s falling asleep in her chair. Arya, are you fine with some cake and wine?” Cirra picked up Barra and carried her over to a protesting Mya. She placed the child in Mya’s arms, ignoring her complaints.

Arya looked at Gendry, who was concentrating harder on his task than needed. “I’m fine with the just the cake. I still need to be alert on my way home.”

“Nonsense. Bella will give you a ride. She’s not too far from your hotel. She’s staying at the Durrandon.”

“Wow. They put you up in the Durrandon?” Bella looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

Arya cleared her throat lightly. “Well, my mother may or may not sponsor the Northern Company,” she said. Bella smirked. “But only because I asked her to. She’ll still sponsor them when I leave. I did not pay my way to principal dancer.” She stuck her tongue out at Bella, who just laughed at her expense.

Bella watched her family leave for the respective tasks and then moved to the seat next to Arya. “I’m so sorry. I should have told you Gendry was coming. I didn’t mean to blindside you or him.”

“It’s fine, Bella.” Arya shook her head. “It’s not like this was the first time we’ve seen each other. I had to will myself to dance when I saw him in the audience at the show.” She smiled wryly.

Bella’s face softened at her admission. “He still loves you, you know? He’d kill me for telling you this, but he was a complete mess when he came home that night.”

* * *

Arya massaged her feet while watching the dancers move across the stage. So far, she was liking the Silk Company much better than Littlefinger’s. The man who ran Littlefinger’s was quite creepy. He reminded Arya of a snake. Plus, while he had not explicitly stated it, Arya could tell Syrio did not like the man either. Syrio had never steered Arya wrong before. Plus, the director had spoken of his dancers like they were property. That was a major turn off.

On the other hand, Chataya was up on the stage giving the dancers a talk and instructions for the day. It was a laidback atmosphere and all the dancers seemed friendly. It reminded Arya of the Northern Company.

“Are you liking what you’ve seen so far?”

Startled, Arya turned to her left. She had not noticed Alayaya, Chataya’s daughter, coming over to her. “Yeah. I like the camaraderie you all have. I also love this theater.” Arya gestures around to the auditorium they sat in. “Did you dance?”

Alayaya nodded. “I did, but I realized my heart is behind the lights rather than in front of it. I’m one of the choreographers. I did not do this piece, though.”

“Chataya is a good speaker. Reminds me of the motivational talks Syrio gave me sometimes.” Arya put her foot down. “Do you guys dance all year?”

Alayaya shrugged. “Yes and no. Four groups dance for each quarter. You can dance in two groups, but they can’t be back to back. Meaning you can’t dance for six straight months. You will get paid during your off time and you will be expected to attend classes twice a week. If you do sign with us, you can get a temporary room at what the dancers call the barracks.”

“Barracks?”

“It’s a boarding house the company keeps for the younger dancers who don’t have a place of their own. You don’t have to stay there, but the option is open until you can find your own place.”

Arya nodded. She liked this pitch. “I want to talk to Syrio one more time. You’ll have an answer very soon.”

* * *

“So is there a reason you wanted to eat here again?” Arya asked Lyanna. They were walking to Hot Pie’s.

“Why else? The food was amazing. I was thinking about trying that chicken fried steak. Isn’t that a curious thing? _Chicken fried steak_? I wonder if he made that pie again.”

Arya laughed at her friend’s enthusiasm. “Just make sure you get the white gravy for it.”

When they got to Hot Pie’s, it was busy. The only place to sit was the counter. A counter that had Gendry at it. He was hunched over a plate and talking (listening) to Hot Pie. Lyanna felt Arya freeze beside her. Before she could turn tail, Lyanna took her by the arm and pulled her towards the counter. Hot Pie spotted them and she waved.

“Arry! Lyanna! Back so soon?” Hot Pie greeted them. He wiped down the counter. It did not escape his notice that Lyanna purposely sat on the seat farthest from Gendry, forcing Arya to sit in the middle.

“Yes! I wanted to try that chicken fried steak on your menu. Arya suggested the white gravy with it.” Lyanna subtly winked at him.

For once, Hot Pie seemed to catch on. “Well, it’s not chicken and it’s not steak in the traditional sense. It’s beef cube steak. And what kind of white gravy? I have three kinds. First is peppercorn...”

Arya was not oblivious to their machinations. She knew exactly what Lyanna was doing. What surprised her was that Hot Pie was playing along. He was always happy to explain his dishes but he knew the situation between her and Gendry was rocky. Inwardly sighing, she chanced a glance over at Gendry. He was eating an enormous slab of meatloaf, potatoes, green beans, carrots, and a yeast roll. A very _Gendry_ meal indeed.

“How’s the meatloaf?” Arya asked quietly. She was not even sure Gendry heard her. He gave her a sideways glance.

“What kind of question was that? When has the edibility of Pie’s food ever been in question?” He stared at her.

Arya blinked a few times. He was joking with her. She laughed softly and shrugged. “I suppose it was a dumb question. My social skills have taken a hit in the last few years.”

Gendry snorted. “Somehow I doubt it’s that big of a hit.”

* * *

Gendry walked into his loft later. He was full of conflicting emotions. He’d had a good time in the diner with Arya and the others. It almost felt like old times. But there was still a dark cloud hanging over them. They were both careful to never get remotely close to talking about their relationship. But at least they were no longer talking around each other.

Still, it was draining. As an introvert, Gendry was not one to fake niceties for too long. But had he been faking? Groaning, he headed to his kitchen. He found the only bottle of liquor he kept, a huge jug of whiskey Robert had gifted him as a housewarming gift, and filled a rocks glass. He stared at it for a long moment before raising it and downing in three huge gulps.

“Fuck!” Gendry yelled. It felt like his throat was on fire. How his father could knock back glass after glass of the stuff was beyond Gendry. Then again, Robert probably doesn’t drink it all at once. Gendry filled his glass up halfway and took another, much smaller gulp. He set it down on the counter. He was replacing the whiskey when there was a knock on his door. Confused, he still went to answer it.

It was Arya.

“Hey,” she said breathlessly. She caught the strong scent of whiskey, but Gendry appeared completely sober. “Got a minute?”

Surprised, Gendry stepped aside and allowed her to enter. He shut the door slowly and faced Arya. He could only guess one of the meddlesome women in his family had given her his address. “What is it?”

Arya stopped looking around. She sat her wristlet and phone down on the island before facing him. “I just wanted to...” What did she want? Why had she come here? “I think we should talk.”

“Talk about what?” Gendry crossed his arms.

“I don’t want it to be awkward anymore. I hate feeling like I’m walking on eggshells. So I think we should clear the air.”

“What’s there to clear?”

“Gendry, don’t be obtuse.”

“What do you want from me, Arya?” Gendry asked, his voice rough.

“I want you to give me a chance! I want you to forgive me! I want you...” Arya stopped and took a deep breath. “I just want my friend back.”

Gendry stared at her blankly for a moment. Then he laughed mirthlessly. “Well, I don’t want to be your _fucking friend_ , Arya. It’s too late for that. You’ve ruined any chance of us ever being friends again.”

The way he said it did not match the maliciousness of the words, but that did not make them hurt any less. Arya felt her lip tremble and eyes water. She nodded and turned around to gather her things. “Well, if that’s how you feel then I’ll just...” When she turned back around Gendry was directly behind her. As soon as she raised her head to look at him, Gendry leaned down and kissed her. Out of all the things Arya thought Gendry would do in this moment, kissing her senseless was completely absent from the list. Gods, he was a great kisser. That had not changed.

Gendry pulled back to let her breathe. “I don’t want to be your friend, Arya,” he said. His meaning hit Arya and before she could respond, he was kissing her again. Arya took a step back and met the edge of the island. She yelped when Gendry lifted her easily and sat her on top of it. They were now face to face and their necks thanked them for it. Arya instinctively spread her legs so that he could step between them.

Arya dug her nails onto Gendry’s shoulders and pulled on his shirt. He leaned back enough for her to yank it over his head. Then he lowered his head to her neck. She leaned back to give him better access. A loud moan escaped her when he latched on to a spot behind her ear. It was pathetic how riled up she was so soon. But by the feeling of him pressing against her, he was just as far gone. Arya dragged her hands down his chest and to his waist. She grasped his belt just as he began pulling the tie loose on her halter top. She made quick work of the buckle and pulled his belt out of his pants. She tossed it as Gendry pulled her top down.

There was no talking after that.

* * *

When she woke up, she was naked in a bed she did not quite remember falling asleep in. Judging by the faint glow on the horizon, the sun would be up in another hour or so. It took a moment, but she remembered that she was at Gendry’s. They had a talk that ended up being more than what she had in mind, not that she was complaining. Arya immediately sat up and looked to her right. The sheets were disturbed so Gendry had been there at some point. But he wasn’t now.

“You’re awake.”

Arya nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned to her left and saw Gendry standing with his back to her in the enormous window of the loft. And of course, he would be naked as the day he was born. “I thought you’d left me alone for a second.” Arya immediately cringed. That was not how she wanted to put it.

Gendry huffed. “I would’ve at least left you a note,” he said dryly. He did not see the frown that crossed Arya’s face. “I’m sorry.”

Forgetting her confusion, Arya shook her head. “What are you apologizing for?”

“This.” Gendry turned and faced her. “ _This_ shouldn’t have happened.”

“You’re saying you regret it?” Arya pulled the sheets tighter around her.

“No, I don’t regret it. I just don’t think it was a good idea or fair.”

“Fair?”

Gendry nodded. “To you or me. I’m not in the headspace for this and I don’t want you to think it’s more than...” He trailed off and buried his face in his hands. With a sigh and shake of his head, he moved away from the window and to a chest.

Arya stood from the bed while he pulled on clothes. “Gendry, let’s just...”

“I need a moment, Arya.” He was dressed in record time. He looked at her to see she had come up behind him. Her eyes reminded him of a frightened fawn. “I’ll be back. You can stay. I just... I need a moment.”

“Gendry...” Arya whispered once he disappeared down the stairs. She walked to the railing and watched him walk out of the loft. She sighed and went back to the bed. She threw herself back on it and stared up at the high ceiling. It used to be so easy to talk to him. Now he acted like a skittish animal around her. Arya guessed she only had herself to blame for that. It was clear he did not want to be hurt again. She sat up and went downstairs to find her phone.

 _No texts and no missed calls_. It occurred to her that she had not spoken to Jon since arriving. If she needed to talk to him, now was possibly the best time. Jon would either be starting his day or ending it at this time. She went back upstairs and dialed his number.

Jon answered on the second ring. _“Hey, Arya. Why are you up so early?”_

“I may be going about this reconnecting thing all wrong,” she blurted out.

 _“What do you mean?”_ It sounded as if Jon was stretching. Arya figured she had caught him right before he was getting up.

“With Gendry. I think we probably moved too fast and now...”

_“Moved too fast? Explain.”_

Arya sighed. “What do you think I mean? We had sex!”

_“Arya...”_

“Yes, I know. Very stupid considering how nonexistent our relationship is right now. He couldn’t even properly look at me after. Then he left. That and he’d been drinking so he probably wasn’t really in his right mind. Oh gods... Did I take advantage of him? This is so fucked. I didn’t want to hurt him again and now...”

_“Arya!”_

Arya stopped rambling and wiped her face. She had not even realized she’d been crying. “Yeah?” she mumbled.

Jon sighed on his end. _“It’ll be fine. Gendry is rational. You say he left? Left you where?”_

“In his loft. He said he’d be back and he just needed to think.”

 _“See? He just needs a moment to process things. Both of you just need to take a step back. I don’t think you two should do anything like this again. You need to work on rebuilding your friendship before anything else. Now calm down and breathe,”_ Jon said.

Arya took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Jon was right. What they had done was a bad idea. Gendry had said he did not want to be her friend, but they had to start somewhere. “Do you think he resents me?” she whispered.

Jon thought about that question for a long moment. _“I think there is some resentment there. It’s human. Nothing that he can’t work through. His actions show that he still loves you, Arya. But you know he’s about as good at sorting through feelings as you are. Terrible. He’s just...”_ He trailed off.

“Hurt. He’s hurt and I did that.”

* * *

Across town, Gendry watched the sun rise from the boardwalk. What he did was wrong. It was too much too soon. He was right about one thing. He did not want to be Arya’s friend. But if he wanted a relationship with her, that’s where he needed to start. They needed to have a real discussion. She needed to hear what he had to say.

 _But what do I have to say?_ he asked himself. Gendry had never given too much thought to what he would say to Arya if he ever saw her again. He thought he was over the bitterness, but that clearly was not the case. _Maybe I should finally take Mya’s advice._

* * *

When he got back to his loft, he was hit with the smell of coffee. Arya was pouring a cup, wearing his robe that looked more like an oversized coat on her. She noticed him and gave him a small smile. He did not return it. Instead, he walked over to her and handed her a box that was decorated with Hot Pie’s logo.

Arya opened the box. Then she laughed. “Hot Pie is truly gifted.” She heard Gendry chuckle as well as he retreated to his bathroom. Figuring he was going to shower, Arya took a colorful doughnut from the box and shuffled over to a stool.

Gendry returned 10 minutes later, freshly showered. He stopped right in front of Arya as she was taking a bite out of another doughnut. “Let’s talk. Really talk.”


End file.
